Лори Касс - Wrong Side Of The Paw

“No idea. It doesn’t make any sense. You’re cute, and intelligent, and you’re always ready to try new things. I don’t understand why we’re not a match made in heaven.”

“Well.” I sighed. “At least we tried.”

He looked at me. “Want to try kissing again?”

“Not really.” And I didn’t. Not that I’d ever kissed my brother full on the lips, but if I ever had, I would have expected it to feel like it felt when I kissed Ash. “If there hasn’t been any sizzle up until this point, why would it start now?”

“Good point.”

We sat there a moment, each silently pondering the vagaries of romance.

“Okay,” he said finally. “I guess that’s it.”

“I guess so.”

As we both got to our feet, he snapped his fingers. “Say, are you up for a fat tire bike ride tomorrow? There’s a new route I want to try.”

“Sounds good,” I said. “Meet at the Round Table first for breakfast? Say nine?”

“It’s a plan.”

After mutual nods, he went back to his bowling and I headed out to the fresh air, ending the easiest breakup ever.

• • •

The next evening there was a party of three for dessert in Kristen’s small office. Even with the normal two of us, there wasn’t a lot of extra room. With Leese added to the mix, it had taken clever rearrangements by Harvey, Kristen’s devoted sous chef, to provide enough space so that we could all eat the last crème brûlée of the season without bumping elbows.

I held my spoon above the ramekin, poising it to plunge through the crusty sugar and into the delectable custard underneath. “To another successful year.”

The last consonant wasn’t out of my mouth when I realized that my casual toast could have hurt Leese’s feelings horribly. With suspicion about the identity of her dad’s killer still hovering like an unwanted and socially inept guest, her year was not likely to be successful. And unless the killer was found and put in jail, her new law firm might not last another twelve months.

But Leese, smiling, was also holding up her spoon. “To Kristen and the Three Seasons.”

“Ah, shucks,” my best friend said. “You guys are going to make me blush.”

I snorted in disbelief. The three of us tinked our spoons together and then the delightful sound of crackling sugar filled the air.

“When was the last time you were embarrassed about anything?” I asked as I worked to spoon up the perfect first bite, one that included caramelized sugar, custard, and at least part of a raspberry. Where Kristen had found local raspberries in mid-October, I did not know, but some questions were best left unasked. “You didn’t turn a hair during the filming last summer.”

In July, Trock Farrand and his son, the always impeccably clad Scruffy Gronkowski, had filmed an episode of Trock’s Troubles at Kristen’s restaurant. The show had aired a week after Labor Day and the ensuing rise in business had boosted profits not only for the Three Seasons, but also for much of downtown.

“Embarrassment is a waste of time.” Kristen waved her spoon. “You would do well to remember that, little one.”

“And you would do well to recall who showed you how to change the ring tones on your cell phone.”

Leese laughed. “I said it before and I’ll say it again. You two act more like sisters than friends.”

“Sisters in spirit.” Kristen leaned over and slung one of her long arms around my shoulders to give me a quick hug. “Friends forever.”

I grinned. “That forever part is easier since she lives in Key West five months out of the year.”

A laughing Kristen lightly thumped the side of my head. “Someday you’re going to come with me and see why. Here it’s sleet and snow and cold and boots. There, it’s sunshine and sandals.”

“There, it’s big bugs,” I said. “And snakes. Year round.”

“Not if you stick to the city, where people belong.” She eyed me and I sensed what was coming. I’d texted her about the end of the Minnie-Ash relationship last night and a discussion was inevitable. “So,” she said. “It’s over with the extraordinarily handsome Ash Wolverson? And yes, I told Rafe, just like you asked. Not sure why you didn’t do it yourself, though.”

Leese gave me a startled look. “Hang on. When did this happen?”

“Last night,” I said. “And yes, we’re no longer dating. We’re still friends, though.”

“Has that ever really worked?” Leese asked.

“Not in the entire history of the world.” Kristen’s spoon scraped the bottom of her ramekin. “I’m not sure why this one thinks this particular situation is going to be different.”

“Because friends was all we ever really were,” I said. “Just like . . .”

Kristen squinted. “Like what?”

Like Rafe and me, I’d almost said, but lately I wasn’t sure what was going on between us. He’d said he missed me, which was more sentiment than I’d ever heard from him. And I missed him. Well, sort of. Okay, I did. But that didn’t mean . . . well, what did it mean?

I put the question aside to think about later, because I was finally clueing in that something about Kristen was off. She hadn’t quite met my gaze since I’d arrived and she’d started eating without uttering a single criticism of the food, which I wasn’t sure she’d ever done in her life.

I pointed my spoon at her. “What’s up?”

She turned a wide-eyed gaze on me. “The price of bacon, if the last invoice from my supplier is any indication.”

Sitting up straight, I pulled out both stops; the Librarian Look and the Librarian Voice. “Kristen Jurek, there is something you’re not telling me and I demand you tell me right this minute, because if you leave for Key West without spilling your guts, you’ll regret it forever.”

The silence lengthened and thickened. I continued to stare at Kristen. She continued to eat her dessert. Leese looked from one of us to the other and didn’t say a word.

Kristen scraped up a last spoonful of custard, swallowed it down, and tidied both the spoon and the ramekin. “I would have sent you a text, but I wanted to see your face when I told you. Then you break up with Ash, so now it’s all a little awkward, and—”

That’s when I knew. Shrieking with happiness, I flung myself at Kristen and wrapped my arms around her.

“Hey, now,” Leese said with concern. “Minnie, leave the poor woman alone. Whatever’s wrong, physical violence isn’t the answer.”

I burst out laughing. “This is a hug, not an attack. Do you know what’s going on?”

“Clearly not,” she said.

“The tall skinny blonde in the room got engaged last night.” I gave Kristen one last crushing squeeze and let go. “Didn’t you?”

My friend sighed ostentatiously, but her face was all smiles. “He flew in yesterday and did the one-knee thing with the biggest bouquet of roses I’ve seen in my life. I figured if he was willing to get dirt on his pants and spend money on flowers that were going to look like crap in three days, it wasn’t a joke anymore.”

Mild pandemonium ensued for a few minutes. At the end of it, Kristen said Scruffy had flown back to New York that morning with her request for an engagement ring—an emerald flanked by two smaller diamonds—and would be returning in another week with the ring and to help her close up the restaurant and pack for Key West.

Kristen called Harvey for a bottle of champagne. After the excitement faded and we sat back down, Leese’s earlier comment about sisters finally rattled around in my brain enough to remind me of something. “How’s your brother doing? Is he back to work?”

Leese, who’d returned to scraping up the last of her dessert, sighed and put her laden spoon down. “Brad is still acting as scapegoat for the brewery.”